Love Me Or Leave Me
by Princess Misery
Summary: Sam finds something on Y/N's phone that makes him doubt their relationship. Warnings: Angst (I hope cause that was kinda the point), break up, sad Sam.


**Summary:** Sam finds something on Y/N's phone that makes him doubt their relationship.

**Warnings: **Angst (I hope cause that was kinda the point), break up, sad Sam.

**Song & Artist: **Love Me Or Leave Me - Little Mix.

**Word Count: **2.3k (inc. lyrics)

**Notes: **for cleighwrites "ThANGSTgiving Challenge" tumblr - my prompt was - "With a safe home, and a warm bed, on a quiet little street" from the song Be Like That by 3 Doors Down. It's in bold (I used it twice!). But I also managed to work in a letter for my own song fic challenge. Set around season 2 but doesn't really matter tbh.

**Characters: **Sam Winchester, Y/N (She/her)

**Pairing: **Sam x Reader (Y.N/she/her)

* * *

**Love Me Or Leave Me.**

Sam threw himself into work to dampen the doubts circling his thoughts, keeping his mind occupied, and he had been successful, to a point, that was until the suspected ghost case Bobby had thrown their way. The McClane family owned a modern stately home. The sweet, almost knocking on a hundred years old Grandmother had insisted Sam, Y/N and Dean, take advantage of the spare ten bedrooms they had. Y/N and Dean had excitedly accepted the offer, they agreed it was the best way to monitor suspicious activity.

Y/N dropped her bag by the door and broke into a full sprint across the large room to fling herself spread-eagle onto the large bed. Sam closed the door and gently placed his bag on the floor, rolling his eyes as she bounced and landed again.

Y/N rolled on to her back and stroked the sheets. "Oh my god, Sam, you have to feel this, it's so soft," She cooed. "It has to be Egyptian cotton."

She continued her admiration; talking about thread counts and how good it would feel against her naked skin later. Oblivious to Sam's deliberate efforts, of taking out his laptop and setting it on the desk in the corner, trying to block her out.

"Sam, come over here and feel this," she suggested enthusiastically. He could hear the smile in her voice without having to see it. "Sam," she urged when he paid her no attention. "Sam, it's really soft, honestly."

He tapped the buttons on his keyboard and lost himself in the information on the screen. The rustle of the sheets gave away her movements as she slid to the edge of the bed. "Sam," her voice earnest and questioning wasn't enough to make him look at her. "I slept with your brother."

His head swivelled so fast to glare at her it made him dizzy for a split second. She smirked, amused at his perplexed expression, but he was unimpressed. "That's not funny," he said, turning back to his computer.

"Neither are you, acting like I don't exist the past few days," she accused.

It had been a week since he had seen it, and it had played on his mind ever since. A week that felt like a month, a week that let the doubt bubble and settle firmly in his chest like acidic bile in the base of his throat that refused to be swallowed. The doubt twisted a knot into his stomach every time he looked at Y/N, so he simply stopped looking.

Sam made every attempt to avoid being alone with her, sat in the front of the Impala instead of curling up with her on the backseat, he even waited at least an hour after she went to bed before slipping in quietly next to her.

They'd argued, three days ago, Sam couldn't recall what initially started it, but he'd used it as an excuse to not speak to her for almost a full twenty-four hours. Or maybe she hadn't spoken to him, either way, he wasn't sure she had noticed his hesitant behaviour, she hadn't said anything if she had, until now.

"What's going on?"

His answer came out clipped, almost cutting, "Nothing."

"You're lying, and you know I know," she blasted. Her words rushed out, cold and scared, "what's going on Sam? I feel like you're mad at me, that you've been mad at me for a while. So what happened? We used to never go to bed angry, but it's all we ever do lately. And you're turning away like you hate me; like you can't stand to look at me anymore, so what happened? Love me or leave me, remember?"

It was what they said to one another when things got tough, it was their version of all or nothing. There was no inbetween, the options were simple, love me meant they would work out whatever it was that was going on, leave me meant exactly that, one of them would walk away.

The silence dragged, long and loaded with tension.

His name left her lips as a pleading question, "Sam?"

Sam closed his eyes and inhaled, holding his breath. He remembered the moment the doubts had seeped into his brain like rain into the earth. He hadn't meant to see it, he hadn't been snooping, he was using Y/N's phone and the notification popped up on the screen whilst he was doing something else. His busy thumb clicked the box accidentally. Pinterest loaded and just as Sam was about to close the app, the aforementioned interrupting notification's title caught his eye.

_Jo Smith liked a pin from your '__**A safe home, and a warm bed, on a quiet little street'**__ board'._

His thumb hovered over the screen, a small voice telling him he was invading her privacy echoed in the back of his mind. But Sam's naturally inquisitive mind wouldn't allow him to click away.

The board was a seemingly endless array of photos. Houses; big and small, cottages in the woods beside a lake, manors in gated communities, palaces in foreign countries. Bedrooms, kitchens, living rooms, yards. All sorts of colour combinations; deep shades of purple, bright and bold reds, homely pastel colours, greys and blacks. Numerous pictures of furniture to decorate such rooms; four-poster beds, armchairs, sofas, breakfast bars with all manner of high tech equipment, large antique looking dressers and matching nightstands, walk-in closets, smaller free-standing wardrobes, bedspreads, cushions, wallpaper.

The board labelled 'Pretty girly things' included a group of pictures of manicured nails, cocktail dresses, cashmere sweaters, sparkly shoes, hairstyles he'd never seen on Y/N. Y/N had never had a manicure in the time Sam had known her. Long, expertly shaped, polished nails weren't exactly Hunter friendly. She wore dresses if a case called for it, she owned one pair of stiletto shoes, and she complained they pinched her toes every time she was forced to wear them. Biker boots, jeans, a t-shirt, a plaid shirt and a leather jacket were her go-to outfit. And Sam loved it, because it was unmistakably _her_.

But the assembly of photos he had happened upon, gave him an insight into a Y/N that he didn't know existed. It was a collection of things Y/N didn't have, a reminder of things she _would_ never have, as long as she was with him.

Her hand encasing his shoulder startled him, and he opened his eyes to find her imploring gaze staring back at him. "We need to talk."

Y/N pulled her hand away, as if he had physically, not just verbally shocked her, and rested on the edge of the table. Arms folded protectively across her chest. Sam saw the memories that those four words conjured up flash across her face; every bad decision, everything she had ever done wrong swirled behind her eyes as she tried to pinpoint which of them he could be referring to.

He tried to find the words, opened his mouth three times to start explaining but he just ended up impersonating a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he sought the least heartbreaking phrase. The words he settled on, rushed out as an angry accusation, a challenge almost, "If you want luxury throws and Egyptian cotton sheets, you should leave me."

Her brow furrowed, and she chewed the inside of her cheek, a look Sam knew to mean she was carefully calculating a response. She had no filter, had always been hot-headed, she sought forgiveness, refused to ask for permission. In the beginning, it had caused many arguments, she seemed to like to throw grenades in trenches. It took a long time for Sam to get her to lower her defences, to make her _think_ before she spoke.

Sam continued before she could respond, "I saw your Pinterest." Her eyes narrowed before her expression softened and became apologetic when he continued, "all the houses, the clothes, the girly stuff. All the things I can't give you."

She spoke softly, "I never asked for any of those things."

"No," he agreed, wearily running a hand down his face, "but you clearly want it." He waited for a silent heartbeat for her to deny it, "tell me I'm wrong, Y/N? Tell me you don't want '**a safe home, and a warm bed on a quiet little street.**'" he asked the question, but his voice begged her to lie.

That title had been swimming around his mind continuously, a shark seeking its prey — a wounded shark, too sick to sleep, to fitful to stop.

"Sam, those are lyrics from a 3 Doors Down song," she explained. "I liked them-"

He got to his feet, he needed to pace, had become the wounded shark that couldn't lay dormant. "But they obviously spoke to you; you chose them for a reason."

"I chose them to remind me that I have it already!" She confessed, standing up straight dropping her arms to her sides. "I have all of that." Y/N took a hesitant step toward him, but he stopped her advance by taking a step back, out of reach of her outstretched hand. "Sam, you're my home, you're safe and warm. You calm the storm in my head, you're my quiet street, though you're not so little."

He stifled the smirk that wanted to dance on his lips, the adoration and love behind her gaze, taking his breath, forcing him to look down at his boots. "When we met, you had that," he spoke to the plush, beige carpet beneath his black boots that seemed to swallow his feet almost completely. He wished it could, prayed he could sink through the floor, so he didn't have to do this.

"Exactly, I _had_ that. Things change, dreams change."

She sounded pitiful, desperate, and he knew she was. Desperate to stop him from doing what he was about to do, and part of him wanted her to. But he knew that was the selfish part of him, the part of him that still held onto the hope that he could be normal, have some semblance of a normal life.

"Sam, I don't understand where this is coming from. I knew what I was getting myself into when we got together. It didn't take me long to understand sacrifice is the payment required for a Winchester to love you. So I sacrificed some material shit, but I did it gladly."

"But you shouldn't have to, Y/N. Not for me. Not for someone who doesn't lo-"

"Don't say it," she spat, pointing a warning finger at him.

"I thought I could heal your heart, mend the broken pieces after what that demon took from you." He had believed that once upon a time, tried his damnedest and for the most part, he succeeded.

He needed to do this now, needed to make her leave. But he was weak, when it concerned her he was a weak man, he wasn't strong enough to walk out on her. She had to be the one to go, to live the life they both deserved, but she'd have to do it with someone else. And he knew the blow he needed to deliver to get her to be the one to walk away. "I thought that you could fix mine, after Jess, and for a while you did. But I can't - I won't ever love anyone the way I loved her."

Sam's words hit her and he watched the colour drain from her face, it took every ounce of strength he had to shrug and keep an indifferent expression his face, but he kept it even when the tears spilled over her long lashes. Y/N held his gaze for a minute, silently pleading with him to take it back. He held steady, setting his mouth in a hard, stubborn line.

She caved first, "I guess the answer this time is leave me," she whispered walking slowly to collect her bag. She hoped her lagging departure would give him the time he needed to change his mind.

Sam didn't call her back; exhaling as the door clicked close behind her, his legs buckled, and he had to catch himself on the edge of the bed as he fell to his knees. The sob ripped painfully from his lungs and he choked on his words, "no." He emitted a groan loaded with regret, and now he knew what a breaking heart _sounded_ like.

* * *

**Lyrics for Inspo. (not all lyrics) **

You used to tell me that you loved me once

What happened, what happened?

Where is all of this coming from?

What happened, what happened?

You say I'm crazy and there's nothing wrong

You're lying and you know I know

Baby what have we become?

What happened?

We used to never go to bed angry

But it's all we ever do lately

And you're turning away like you hate me

Do you hate me, do you hate me, oh

You can take this heart

Heal it or break it all apart

No, this isn't fair

Love me or leave me here, oh, oh ah ha

Love me or leave me here, oh, oh ah ha

Love me or leave me here, yeah

Do you remember when you loved me once?

What happened, what happened?

And you'd hold me here just because

What happened, no

'Cause I could still be the only one you need

The only one close enough to feel you breathe

Yeah I could still be that place where you run

Instead of the one that you're running from, ooh


End file.
